Femme Fatale?
by HiddenDowry
Summary: Spike is alive and he just woke up from a cryotube to find everything different on the Bebop and the only one there to give him answers is a fiery haired vixen that looks vaguely familiar. Re-Write.
1. Just The Beginning

_Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any characters associated with it._

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**Just the Beginning**

She sat on a stool at the bar her long scarlet mane tickling the skin on her waist. Her bangs were pulled back by a thin clear headband, puffing out here and there where they had been pulled back. The bright, wild hair contrasted against the smooth tanned olive skin. A sigh escaped the young woman. She was indescribably bored. It was one of those days where she didn't feel like prowling on a wealthy bounty. Her long clean nails tapped against the daiquiri I her hand; the other hand swirling the crazy straw around in the pink frozen treat while her golden orbs peered over at the liquor cabinet. Virgin, the only way she ever had her drinks served. Drugging a drink was a stupid move. It would only slow down her mind in the end and leave her in an unsavory situation.

Long bare legs crossed underneath the bar top. She dropped her elbows on the table, taking the straw into her mouth as she blew bubbles in the increasingly liquefying daiquiri. Her eyes remained on the alcohol cabinet as her mind wandered on to more eventful days. Her faithful companion had passed some three years ago in his sleep; leaving her alone on the enormous ship. No more barking, no more conversations. She was left to her own devices. Days grew longer without someone around to accompany her in repairing the old beast from the inside out. The ship having falling into disarray by the second year she had come aboard again. As a bounty hunter vessel it had fallen far below par with the new models.

The Bebop had become a relic in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy but she wouldn't have that. It needed updates horribly so she had made that her goal while her friends were away. A task worthy of consuming her time until her friends returned. The new facility, of her creation, was taking up too much power as it was. Major overhaul was needed in order to make the Bebop a competitor once again. The engine room was the first on the renovation list. Far too much space for engines that could now be packed into half the size with more room to maneuver in and that were easier to repair. Of course the world revolved around money and a new engine was not cheap. Bounty hunting was taken up by the young girl and she felt that it was both ten times easier and ten times harder to reel in the big fish.

She had no one in cohorts with her so the physical capture became a challenge. For other bounties it was getting them to stay, she was no Faye with feminine wiles to distract the villains, no Spike to drink them into a stupor, no Jet to dazzle them with conversation, and surely no Ein to confuse the hell out of them. She laughed at the thought. She had nothing but the odd ball routine going for her when she set out on her own. It wasn't as easy as those guys made it seem. When she got wounded it wasn't a time where she would be comforted like she had been and she wasn't the best at acting like it didn't hurt either. She might be able to grin and bear it but she was not going to lie and say she was a-okay. If it hurt, it hurt, it was that simple.

It took a few years to perfect her hunting style but when she was used to it she appeared in waves. Picking up major bounties left and right with her hacking skills. Who knew that such skills could come to be so handy for actually capturing a bounty? The scarlet haired beauty turned to peer out at the living room that connected directly to the kitchen. She had to get rid of everything inside despite her initial refusal. The old worn down couch was gone. The cracked wooden coffee table with all its cup rings and chips was gone. They were simply too old, ready to crumble under any weight any day, so she threw them out. However it wasn't a far stretch to say that the retro interior wasn't inspired by the previous furniture.

Honestly it was something she remembered seeing in an old Earth comic. What the people in the past perceived as the future and it had a sleek mixture of old and futuristic. She had to say the futuristic part had been a little tweak on her behalf. She had to say that she had been enamored with the comic herself. Those little snippets from the past really blew her mind. Things were so much simple back then. Living in space had been a laughable subject whereas now living on Earth was the thought of a lunatic. Her hand flicked awkwardly when a bead of water dripped from the glass and onto her hand, startling her enough to knock over the glass. The cool liquid splashed onto her lap. Causing her to jump away from the barstool and laugh aloud. Her crotch had been temporarily frozen. She swiped a bit up with her finger from her knee and tasted it. The young woman spit it out immediately with an annoyed grunt. It was like melted ice cream, horrible.

How long had she been sitting there reminiscing? Her golden orbs moved cautiously to the clock over the fridge and groaned. Only ten minutes. She hit her head against the bar before moving around to get away from the mess. She wasn't expecting company for some time and that mess wasn't going anywhere so she shrugged her shoulders, walking away from the dripping treat. She might as well take up some time while getting her shower in for the night. Whistling tunelessly as she headed up the stairs she puffed out her cheeks. Eyes scanning over the area again as she went. Today was the second week since having finished every renovation on the Bebop. The work was satisfying but without the extra bodies laying about it felt like a waste. The only real change was that things were optimized for space and everything was sleeker, newer in design. Otherwise it was nearly the same, nearly.

The only noise other than her light footsteps was the dripping of the daiquiri onto the floor as she walked. Leaving something of a breadcrumb trail from the kitchen to the new bathroom; which made her laugh again at the ludicrousness of it, like anyone was going to follow the trail and find her. When she arrived at the bathroom the door slid open and she quirked a brow. That was right she had added a few more of those as well, so maybe the layout wasn't an exact replica. She rolled her eyes, taking off her signature white off the shoulder shirt and then slipping out of the black spandex pants that she coveted. Only when she was aboard did she don her favorite outfit. With good reason too, it was the exact outfit that she donned when she first boarded the Bebop, it was much too small for her to be wandering out in public in.

She left the clothes on the floor outside the bathroom, entering into the bathroom. The lights flickered on with her entrance and her hand wandered over to the dial on the wall next to the mirror. She turned the knob to lower the amount of light coming from the bulb so that it was dim in the bathroom. There was a satisfied nod and she was slipping into the shower. Her hand ran over the nozzle to produce hot water which shot out immediately; another upgrade. No more waiting for water to warm up because it heated up before it even came on. So you might be left standing there for a moment waiting for water to come out but when it does you don't end up jumping away with a chill. The young woman smiled as she turned around to wet her striking mane. A patent like that was worth a great deal in Woolongs, enough to pay for all the bathrooms on the ship to be exact.

Her fingers slid over a waterproof screen that rested out of the direct spray of the shower. Turning it on the small thing played a little jingle before the screen lit up. What was she in the mood to listen to? She furrowed her brow in thought before putting the device on random. Another one of her ingenious creations that let her listen to music in the shower. The sound of smooth jazz floated into her ear drums causing her to chuckle. Fate was just in the mood to make her feel nostalgic wasn't it? Breathing deeply she shook her head as she hummed along with the old song, her fingers probing at the shampoo in its cubby. Time to work on that…wait a second! She had left her headband in! Taking the clear hair piece out the young woman opened the glass door and flung it out onto the counter.

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A pair of brown eyes snapped open. They peered forward lazily into the room around him. Taking in the bleak almost hospital like surroundings with a dreamlike acceptance. He blinked slowly as he brought his hands before him to find tubes of different shapes and sizes entering his veins. His heart rate sped up. He lowered his head to take in the rest of his body. Upon finding it in a similar state he tried to yell but found that there was something covering his mouth. His hand went to rip out the breathing device, pulling the tube out of his throat to choke on the liquid his body was suspended in. A light flashed in the corner of his eye but he was too busy choking to notice. In an instant the area was drained of liquid and he was left kneeling on the ground. Vomiting up all that had entered his lungs. The tubes released themselves and left small needles in his skin.

Spike narrowed his eyes, pulling them all out once he had regained his composure. He didn't feel them come out. It didn't hurt or sting, and when he dropped them on the base of whatever he was in, they fell through the floor and out of sight. Hopefully they fell to a place where he wouldn't step on them as he moved around. There was a sound of air escaping and his eyes went to the source as an exit way opened on his holding device. He stood up slowly, unsure of how well his body was functioning. When he stood he bent his knees and punched at the air for safe measure. Spike seemed to be moving just fine. A little sluggish but then again he felt as though he had just woken. Stepping from the tube that had been apparently housing him Spike shielded his eyes with his hand; not enjoying the bright welcome that had been hidden by the dark blue liquid.

His nose flared at the smell of disinfectant, "Shit."

Spike ran his hand through his hair feeling equally disgusted by that as well. So he was in a small room that smelled like a hospital, standing in front of the same tube that had previously housed him, and to top it off he was naked. Speaking of which he peered down at himself to make sure everything was intact. Sighing with relief the young man looked around again and spotted the outline of something on the wall, there was no door in sight but there was this goofy looking thing. He scowled and carefully made his way over to the outline to press his hand against it. In return he was met with a harsh spray of cold water to the face. He stood still, at a loss for words at what had just happened.

The same water sprayed on him again, this time raining down from above. Spike yelled again at the cold water raining over him and jumped out of reach. He was about ready to break the shower head off when he realized he wasn't sticky anymore. Spike felt his nostrils flare again. He wasn't sticky but there had been some kind of cleaning agent in the water. Spike smelled like something used to clean a truck stop toilet. He groaned, wishing he had a smoke, when the door opened behind him. The door opened, behind him. There was a moment of disbelief before he exited the small room into a place much more familiar. He knew the smell but what his eyes caught contradicted.

Altogether it just smelled old but the space he was currently looking at appeared to be fresh, new, if not thoroughly cleaned; though the latter was highly unlikely. There was a door in front of him with a table right next to it. He approached the table sluggishly. Eyeing the contents before quirking his brow when he saw his name on top of a white pile of clothing; fingering through the material. It seemed to be a towel, a sweater, and a pair of sweats. No boxers or even briefs. Someone had a sick sense of humor. Glancing around for any cameras he shrugged, dried himself off, and slipped into the clothes. No point in fretting over something he obviously had no control of. Why not see where the rabbit hole led and maybe get some answers.

The door slid open when he approached it and he exited into a dark hallway. Looking down either end of the hallway he blinked, doing a double take. What was this? Spike approached the other end of the hallway, dragging his fingers over the material of the wall. It was a different material but it looked the same. It was new. He narrowed his eyes again trough the dim lit hallway and let his legs lead him. If he was where he thought he was then Spike would be heading in the direction of the main room, towards his favored napping spot. When he arrived he was at a loss for words and if he had been smoking his cigarette just might have fallen from his lips. His couch was gone.

So was the coffee table. Similar ones were in their place but it was different. It looked nice but it wasn't the same. What, had Jet shacked up with a woman and been convinced to redecorate, what was up with the Bebop? His eyes slid over to the kitchen. Again a change in scenery but this time it was more extreme. That wasn't to say he really minded his change. He never entered the kitchen but to grab a beer anyhow and it seemed as though there was a whole bar section dedicated to just that. So maybe Jet shacked up with a rich woman. His musings were distracted by two things simultaneously. The first was the recollection of dying or almost dying. The second was the spilled drink at the bar. He moved closer and smelt the sweet flavor from afar.

If it was Jet he would have cleaned up and if it was Jet's woman he was sure that she would have enough sense to… Spike stood still, "Jet!"

There was nothing. Not a sound stirred on the behemoth ship. No one responded from somewhere in the inner bowls either. His eyes scanned the main room for a second time. Catching the subtle differences that he had previously missed like the fact that it was more spacious and the stairs were coming from the wall and not the ground. Spike swept his hand through his damp hair feeling lost. What the hell was going on here? He moved forward and felt something sticky touch the underside of his foot. Spike felt a shiver ride along his spine before he glanced down to find that it was only a drop from the drink. A drop from a line of drops that created a trail, that made him scowl. He wasn't a neat freak but that was annoying. God he needed a smoke.

The decision was made and the tall male proceeded to follow the trail; figuring that if he was already dead then there was nothing to be afraid of. This was all some crazy after life that he had been subjected to. When he realized where the trail was leading to Spike quirked a brow. _From a spill at the bar to a bath?_ Sounded strangely like something Faye would do, but Faye had left the crew long before… Well, long before his encounter with Vicious. That added to the fact that whatever the liquid was it had smelled far too sweet to be something Faye would drink, he remembered her to be a hard liquor type of woman. Spike slowed when he neared the bathroom, seeing the new door, and the clothes lying outside of it. He approached silently and stared down at the clothing.

Smooth jazz flooded from the room as he stared down at the clothing. Spike racked his brain for any information of the familiar looking garb so that he wouldn't have to touch it. Mainly for health reasons, if it somehow did end up being Faye and he wasn't dead like he thought he was, then he would much rather live. He did kick it around with his foot. All he could make out was that it was a white t-shirt and some type of black material pants that had been soiled with the drink. Not something Faye would wear. He was clear of that time bomb. With his mind giving him no information he moved towards the door, watching it slid silently open upon his presence. The risk was being taken. The tall thin man entered the steamy room quietly, his brow orbs glowing in the dim light as he looked over the interior. _Should have known that the bathroom would have been completely different too. _

His eyes finished on the mirror where the reflection of a fogged up shower barely showed through. Spike turned his head in the direction of the glass door shower. All he was seeing was the outline of a person just behind the steamed surface; the dim lighting both outside and inside the shower making for a good light to hide in. The silhouette was small, befitting that of a young boy…or a woman. The body had turned to the side to reveal some notable curves that did not fit with the body of a young boy. Spike leaned against the door way as a light humming voice met his ears. That voice did not belong to Faye. He stuffed his hands in his sweat pant pockets. There were two ways this could go down he could barge in on this woman bathing or wait for her to come out.

Waiting had never been his thing and if he did she might just go for some hidden weapon before he even got a chance to speak. The woman started wailing when soap apparently got in her eye, perfect timing. Spike slid over to the glass door, swiping a bottle from the counter as her moved, and opened the door. He placed the bottle at the back of her head like a gun while she was in the middle of rinsing the soap from her eye and watched as her body grew rigid. His brown orbs remained locked on the back of her head. Taking in the rich deep red color of her wet hair.

"Sorry lady I don't know who you are, or what's going on around here, but I'm not taking any chances. Who are you and where is Jet," he said, his gravelly voice scratchy from misuse.


	2. They Call Me Francoise

Hey everyone, this will probably be my first story update in five years. That's a long time but a lot has happened. When I first started this story I was honestly too immature to finish. I've had some chapters in the vault which I was very displeased with but will be rewriting and I will slowly be uploading them.

Please forgive my absence I want to get back in the swing of writing and making a story you all will enjoy. I'm glad this story has received so much interest even with just one chapter. You guys inquiring about it over the time span of all this nonsense, again I sincerely apologize for being such a flake, thank you guys for pushing. I know this is severely overdue.

I'm sorry if things are a bit iffy, I need to get my groove back.

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**They Call Me Françoise**

The cool end of the gun barrel was pressed against the back of her head. She felt her heart stop beating and her breath cease. It felt heavy against her head, a large gun maybe. The sound of the water from the shower head pounded down against her skin and for a moment she could have sworn that the water droplets were completely visible in their motion. Her pupils dilated and she felt her breathing return. Deep breaths expanded in her chest as the gears in her head turned furiously. She tried to figure out how this happened, how someone could have snuck aboard the Bebop without her notice, and much less how she had been caught so unawares. Her lips parted to speak when the person behind her spoke. The man spoke. Slowly, she ran her hands through her hair, slicking back her bangs underneath the continuous pour of water.

Careful not to move quickly and alert him she sighed. Whatever it was that was being pressed against the back of her head it was certainly not anything dangerous. Spike's personal belongings had been stored in the closet of his room. There was no way he had gotten a hold of his gun. She had personally sealed the room in anticipation of his return. The real question was more about why he had woken so early. Her calculations had landed him in another few years of cryogenic sleep. Then again she hadn't entered his tube chamber since she sealed that up too, more so for sanitation reasons than anything else. It needed to be a sterile environment to keep his body from deteriorating under the return of germs.

By the sound of it he was holding up quite well. That was until he sneezed into the back of her head. She took the opportunity, obeying the voice in her head that told her to punch him in the face for the sneeze, and caught him by surprise. Her small fist made contact with his nose and sent his head flying back into the tile wall of the bathtub. He growled and moved to resist but the years of being stationary in the cryotube left his reaction time to be significantly slower. In fact the small woman easily over powered Spike after all that time. The final position of their small struggle was with the smaller woman straddling his left leg, one of her tanned legs firmly against his crotch, while her other leg held his left arm down, her body stretched over the length of his torso that her right arm pressed against his adams apple, her left hand holding his right hand down.

Quite the flexible little thing she was. The hot water pelted down on them, and the red head sighed, pressing her nude body against him as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Time has not been good to you Spike." Amber eyes clashed against the vision of brown eyes.

Spike stared into the woman's eyes briefly before they traveled to the deep red locks trailing over her shoulder, along the line of her ribs, over her lower back, "I'm not sure if I should be alarmed or extremely turned on. How do you know my name?"

He struggled slightly to see her response but she held firm. She continued to stare into his eyes and he felt almost obligated to stare back. The music drifted into the silence alongside the warm water that pelted her back and soaked through his jogger-esque ensemble. "I hardly suppose that would be possible, your bodily functions shouldn't be working that well, you couldn't be horny if you tired Spike," she stated rubbing her thigh against his crotch. He grunted before scowling.

"Calm down, I realize **you** felt that but **I'm** not feeling any pulsing bugle, nothing hard cradled against my le-," she purred before he cut her off, "Listen lady you're pissing me off where's Jet and who the fuck are you."

She looked amused before she released him and quickly slid from the shower. Her hand reached deftly for the towel and wrapped it around her nude form. He shielded his eyes from the water having been unable to see the moment she started moving and sat up in the floor of the shower.

"They call me Francoise, Jet is fine, now take a actual shower and get rid of that horrible stench you smell like shit," the young woman accosted, "Towels are over there, I'll set fresh clothes outside the door, and when you're ready to have an adult conversation about the lot of this feel free to join me in the living room, I'm sure you know where that is."

Spike watched silently as the woman, Francoise, pinned her hair atop her head, gathered her soiled clothes, and retreated from the bathroom. Releasing an irritated groan he let his body fall back onto the floor of the shower. He allowed the warm water to wash over him. God, he needed a smoke.

Francoise knelt over the sticky mess she had left for herself at the bar. She had spent the past twenty minutes scrubbing up the trail from the bathroom and now the largest mass of it had become some odd gelatinous mixture. She stuck her tongue out in disgust as she scrubbed at it with both hands, the wet rag sliding over the floor instead of actually picking up the mixture like she had hoped. Sighing, Francoise did her best to finish cleaning up before dejectedly throwing the rag into the small bucket full of water and moving into the kitchen. As she was pouring the water out she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up.

"How wonderful of you to join us," she smirked.

"Us, really?" he inquired.

"Yes, me, myself, and I," Francoise laughed at her own joke and slapped her knee while Spike looked on blankly. "I'm glad that outfit still fits, have a seat."

Spike sat down on a stool at the bar, his arms casually resting over the bar top. He fixed the sleeves of his signature blue leisure suit and eyed the woman warily. "You have any cigarettes?" he asked with a sigh. He really, really, needed a smoke.

"No, you don't need them; I spent a lot of time regenerating your lungs. Don't waste your fresh pair with that crap," she stated, quirking her brow at the man as she unclipped her damp hair, letting it cascade over her back in waves of crimson.

His restless hands stilled. She stared at him in response. "You're not dead Spike and you're certainly not dreaming." She rubbed the back of her neck as she peered past him. "Computer."

"Bark!"  
"Set wake up call for two hours."  
"Bark bark!"

"Your computer is a dog…," Spike trailed off. He didn't know what was going on anymore. Then again he hadn't really known what was happening since he had woke up.

"He's a Tomato, Ein. Jet and Faye will join us in two hours, I'm sure you have question you could humor me with while we wait," Francoise moved around the bar with a beer, Spike's preferred beer, and took up a space next to him. How did she know his beer and why did the name Ein sound familiar…why did the mention of a tomato fit so well with the idea of a computer. Spike ran his hand over his face.

"Why am I alive?"


End file.
